


Teach Me to be Stronger

by morgana07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Other: See Story Notes, Protective Dean Winchester, Spoilers, Young Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-02
Updated: 2014-08-02
Packaged: 2018-02-11 12:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2067960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morgana07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1-shot. A confrontation with Sam leads Dean to recall another time in their lives when being a brother was more important than being angry. A surprising return of something also helps him see what he’s doing now might be able to be changed.  See note for more. Spoilers!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach Me to be Stronger

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Language and spoilers. Be aware of both and if you dislike either read with caution or avoid.
> 
> Spoilers: More than likely since there are spoilers from S9 finale and some previews into S10.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything but the muse and brain who thinks up the plots.
> 
> Author Note: So JaniceC678 supplied a comment to prompt this prompt ‘Will you teach me to be stronger?’ so that’s how this one started. True, the muse as always had to toss in some rather difficult bonding given Dean’s nature right now but it still has some schmoop and a flashback to some Wee!Chester time. Hope you enjoy!

**Teach Me to be Stronger**

“Do it! C’mon, Sammy, you hate demons so much, you’ve crossed a few blurry lines to find me well I’m right here. You’ve got that demon blade at my throat…do it. Kill me!”

Sam Winchester cringed at the sharp deep voice but it was the swift change from black to normal green that reminded him that no matter what else, what he might be right now, that this was still his brother. This was still Dean and he couldn’t bring himself to use the blade.

It had been six months since Sam discovered that his ‘dead’ brother wasn’t as dead as he’d believed when he’d left him in his room to go to the basement of the Men of Letters bunker to summon the goddamn King of Hell, who Sam blamed fully for his older brother’s condition.

When Crowley failed to appear Sam knew something was very wrong. By the time he got back to the bedroom he discovered Dean gone and knew that Crowley had stolen his body.

Sam had grown up a hunter. He’d been trained by the best hunters he knew and had literally gone through hell learning a few tricks of his own so this time the younger Winchester had decided that he would not stop until he recovered Dean’s body so he could at least, if nothing else, give his brother the peace of a hunter’s burial.

Of course it only took a month of hunting for Crowley for Sam to figure out that Dean wasn’t dead but he was very, very different from the brother who had raised him. The next five months saw Sam doing things, making choices that he was not proud of and knew in his heart that others wouldn’t be proud of him either but it didn’t matter to him.

He’d failed his brother too many times to do it again. Sam was determined to find and cure Dean no matter what it cost him. Now as he stood face to face with his brother in the hall of the bunker, his knife at Dean’s throat while the axe his brother had just swung at him was still embedded in the wall he shook suddenly, letting the blade fall from his hand.

“I can’t,” he whispered, forcing himself not to look away from hard features that turned smug. “I can’t kill you because I still have to believe that I can save you. I can’t have failed you that much for the fifth time. If I have then hell, go ahead and use that on me. I don’t even care.”

Dean’s gaze moved to the axe before giving a hard shove that took his brother across the hall, slamming his back against the wall while making certain his hand pressed against the clearly injured shoulder; almost enjoying the cry of pain Sam made.

“Only you would keep a total of the times you think you’ve failed me. Still a geek even after all the crap you’ve seen and done,” he held out a hand to bring the dropped knife from the floor to his palm, leaning his head to the side to watch his brother’s face when he ran the tip of the blade down his cheek to settle over the shoulder that was held by the sling Sam wore after a run-in with some demons. “Humor me. Run ‘em down for me and maybe by then I’ll lose interest in ending this little drama my way.”

“You know every damn time I’ve failed you so why play this game if you already plan on killing me?” Sam demanded, using his left hand to try to grab the wrist holding the knife closer to his face than he liked.

“Maybe I know or maybe I don’t give a damn anymore and forgot,” Dean countered, putting more weight into the hand he had against Sam’s arm. “Tell me, Sammy.”

It hurt to hear that nickname now but Sam guessed there were worse names his brother could be calling him so he’d pick his battles on that score. It was hard to breathe, much less focus with the pain in his shoulder so he ignored the blade to attempt to shove against the strength forcing him back.

“I…went away to…school,” he gasped as pain shot through his shoulder and Sam prayed nothing else ended up broken inside it. “Left…you to…go to college.”

“I knew you were going to go to college, Sam. I knew that before you hit middle school,” Dean tossed back, rolling his eyes and easily pushing back when he felt Sam’s muscles strain against his hold. “I knew that and decided right then that I’d do what I needed to in order to give you that shot so that takes that one off your fail list. Next?”

Sam frowned a little, still trying to gain some advantage to ease the pressure off his shoulders. “This all started cause you went to Hell cause…of me and I failed you when…I couldn’t get you…out!” he ground out, letting his head fall back against the wall.

“My choice to make the deal I did when that asshole stabbed you,” Dean didn’t like what his brother seemed to think were his failures but he reminded himself that he didn’t care right then. “I failed you because I was supposed to be watching you. I sent you into that damn diner when you were grabbed. I failed you by not getting to you in time. And it had already been set up to make sure you couldn’t get to me so scratch that one off too,” he raised a curious brow. “Next one?”

“I…I…failed you when…I let Ruby trick me into becoming addicted to demon blood,” Sam hated this failure because he could still hear his brother’s voice too many times both in the motel room and on his cellphone after that so he knew he’d failed big time. “You can’t counter this one cause you basically said it when you called me a monster, a vampire on that message you left me before the convent.”

“Both sides needed you screwed up on the demon bitch’s blood to make it easier for them to play us both to go down the brother against brother road they wanted. You kicked it once or were kicking it before a certain damn angel that shall go nameless for the moment let you out so she could use you the rest of the way,” Dean corrected tightly, jaw muscle twitching before he realized it. “You slipped up that one time because you wanted to help me against Famine but you kicked it again and…what the hell do you mean when I called you a vampire. I never called you that in that message I left you.

“I said I probably still owed you a kick in the ass for that beating you gave me but that we were still brothers. I don’t know whose message you got but it sure as hell wasn’t mine,” he pinned Sam with a hard look and despite how he was right then, the former hunter knew what had happened and felt his teeth clench. “ _Sonuvabitch_! That goddamn bald angel fucked with the message I sent you. Sam, you were used from day one. If anyone is to blame for the demon blood thing I can say it was Mom since she made the deal that let the yellow eyed bastard into your room so no, that won’t even go down as a failure on your side. Keep going but I do want to know about that message…later.”

Sam stared, not sure if he should be confused or frustrated by this point. He’d honestly expected to be bleeding by now. He didn’t expect Dean to counter his every damn failure with common sense, especially given how Dean’s temper was before and it was even more intense now.

Swallowing, Sam knew this next one wouldn’t be countered because he’d spent months hearing how he’d failed Dean on this one. “Purgatory,” he spat out and then just stared into hard green eyes as if daring Dean to argue that one.

“Huh. Okay. Yeah, I bitched at you over that one enough that I guess it could be considered a failure except I didn’t know the truth behind the reasons you dropped off the map and quit hunting when I was giving you all that grief,” Dean replied, hearing a groan but wasn’t sure if it was from pain or annoyance and smirked; catching Sam’s left hand when it went to shove against his chest. “I didn’t know the real reason you left hunting, stopped looking for me. I’ve gotten a better gist of that now. If you had given me the truth over the ‘I hit a dog, met a girl and lived normally’ line then I might not have blamed you like I did. So knowing that…no, I can’t even say you failed me that time either,” he gave a cocky grin. “Last one?”

Sam was at the point where he really wished he could move his right arm enough to slug his smug, arrogant brother in the jaw. He was so close to frustrated tears it wasn’t even funny to him and he opened his mouth to say something else when something else entirely poured out.

“I didn’t learn to be stronger than you,” he wasn’t sure why that came out or why it felt like the ultimate failure as Sam felt the hand holding his left one clench in reflex.

This had been just a game to Dean. He really wanted to tease Sam before he got down to pointing out how far gone the brother he had been really was. He hadn’t cared for the things his brother had said but had still been willing to brush them off…until Sam spoke those last words and the demon he was now swore it felt like he’d just been punched in the gut.

“What the hell did you just say?” he demanded, voice dropping into a low growl while he pressed Sam’s hand back against the wall and caught his jaw with the other, forcing it to look at him. “Say it again!”

“I…I…didn’t learn…to be stronger than you,” Sam repeated through clenched teeth, pushing on the hand instinctively and closing his eyes to avoid seeing either black eyes or a gloating smile because now that he said it Sam recalled the moment when he’d asked his brother to help make him stronger than him. “I…I asked you to teach me to be stronger than you when I was 9…I wanted to make you proud if I could beat you once when…we sparred but…never did. Remember…me asking that…De’n?”

Dean’s fingers tightened on his brother’s face until he heard the cry of pain and let up, stepping back fully to allow Sam to slide down the wall and stared at him as if just seeing him.

Since getting the mark of Cain on his arm Dean really hadn’t felt much emotionally. He’d felt nothing since waking up as whatever the hell kind of demon he was right then. He’d felt a twinge of something when learning that demons had jumped his brother. He’d felt another twinge while listening to Sam rattle off his list of ‘failures’ but still it was nothing compared to the hard punch to the gut and the squeezing in his chest as he looked down at floppy dark hair that still covered his brother’s face when he let his chin rest on his chest while trying to support his injured arm with how he sat now.

Dean had been prepared to mock or shrug off whatever this last failure had been. He hadn’t thought anything Sam said would hit him like this as he actually did recall the day in question. He could recall it like it was just yesterday…

** Flashback: Somewhere in Georgia, 1992: **

“What happened to you?” 13 year old Dean Winchester had been pacing in front of the old park where he’d been meeting his nine year old brother for the week that they’d been going to this school.

Normally Sam was out of school like a shot since unlike most other schools their Dad stuck them in while he hunted a town or two away this one had been giving his book smart little brother no end of hassles and Dean knew Sam was just as eager to get the hell out as he was.

This was the first time he’d had to wait for more than a few minutes and the older boy had just been about to go looking when he heard the sounds of his brother’s worn out tennis shoes running up the sidewalk.

Dean had just been turning to gripe when his green eyes went to hard slits the second he took in the bloody lip, bruised cheek, slightly swollen eye and torn shirt on his little brother and everything else became secondary.

“Forget it, let’s go,” Sam hunched over more to try to carry his backpack without dropping it since his right arm was hurting like fire. “I…I just wanna go home.”

Since Sam rarely called anyplace other than the Impala ‘home’ and certainly not any of the endless motels they lived at Dean knew something was wrong and moved to block his brother, reaching out a hand to try to touch him only to frown when Sam jerked back with a wince of pain.

“Who did this?” he demanded in a voice that dropped low, eerily low considering his voice had just started to change. “Sammy? Who the hell did this?”

“The same guys that have been hassling me since day one,” Sam shot back, trying to shove past only to cry out and grab his arm when pain shot through it. “De’n…please,” he grabbed for Dean before his brother could charge back to the school and do what he’d been wanting to for a week. “Please…I…can we just go back to the room?”

Dean had seen the small group of local bullies, all teenagers who were in Sam’s grade but held back probably due to not having a full brain between the five of them. He’d thought he’d gotten his point across the second time his brother had come home with bruises. He planned to get it across this time but as Sam’s hand suddenly reached for his to clutch it tightly the older boy sighed and nodded.

If Dean had a weakness he knew it was his little brother’s full on sad puppy dog eyes that, especially when they were glistening with tears, he never could refuse. “Yeah, let’s go get you cleaned up,” he took the backpack to feel it was lighter than it should’ve been but didn’t ask why.

The motel in this Georgia town wasn’t bad. It wasn’t great by anyone’s standards but it was owned by a nice older couple who never asked too many questions and who also always stopped by at least once a night to drop off some leftovers since ‘the little one will be growing like a weed soon’ as the owner’s wife liked to say.

She also didn’t bat an eye when Dean knocked on the office door to ask for some ice. She’d seen Sam coming home from school with bruises and torn clothes for a week and just went on a mild rant about unruly hooligans and how they’d have been handled when she went to school.

Dean knew how he’d like to handle the little punks who thought picking on, teasing, and flat out beating on his little brother was fun. It didn’t matter to him if one or two were bigger than him. He was supposed to be looking out for Sammy and watching the kid come home from school or nearly cry every morning before school was starting to make him angry.

It took an hour to finally get Sam to the point where he’d let him look him over. The bruise and blood on his face was easily taken care of. The swollen eye that Dean knew would turn into a nice shiner and not open in the morning had a smaller bag of ice wrapped in a towel on it. It was the bruises on Sam’s shoulder and side that finished spiking his simmering temper.

“What happened?” he demanded as he stalked around the room, torn between going down to where he knew the local jerks hung out or making a phone call. “When did they jump you?”

“After the last bell,” Sam muttered, swallowing the pills Dean held out. “They waited until all the teachers were out of the hall. I’d almost made it to the door when three of them jumped me and…Dean…”

“No! It’s not supposed to happen, Sam! Those teachers are there for a reason! Jim’s already called the Principal once to complain about you getting bullied and beat up! They’re supposed to watch out for you since you said me watching you like a hawk made it worse,” Dean didn’t give a damn. If Sam went back to that school, he wasn’t letting his brother out of his sight.

“It didn’t help like it usually does,” Sam sat up to watch his brother. “Those guys have the teachers scared of ‘em. Face it. I’m small and scrawny. The new kid who lives in a motel and has to have his big brother watch his back. I’m never gonna be like you and Dad, Dean. I’m never going to be like those kids. I’m always gonna be smaller and weaker than you.”

Dean stopped prowling the room and plotting revenge to move back, sitting beside Sam to look at his one good eye and recognizing the unhappiness. “Sammy, c’mon, you’re nine, dude. You’re gonna be smaller because you’re still a little kid. We’re still growing.”

“You’ve always been bigger than me,” Sam mumbled, ducking his head because he knew how stupid that sounded even to his own ears.

“I’m older than you. I’m always gonna be bigger, faster, stronger than you, kiddo,” Dean smirked to try to get at least a half smile out of his brother. He stood up to motion Sam to do the same. “See this?” he placed his hand on the top of his brother’s head, moving it to show where Sam’s height was in relation to his. “I will always be four years older than you so this height thing between us will always be the same too.”

Sam frowned as he looked to see where he came up to on his brother. “Pastor Jim said I haven’t started really growing yet. He and Bobby say I might shoot up to be taller than you,” he pointed out while not mentioning how much he really, really wanted to one day be taller than his older brother.

“Bobby and Jim were drunk on something when they said that, Sammy,” Dean snorted. He adored and respected both older hunters but he’d only believe that his baby brother, who was just now starting to lose the chubbiness he’d had as a baby, would ever be taller than him. “I’m older, faster, stronger, and cuter. But I can teach you a few tricks to make up for being younger, slower, and less cute…if you want me to.”

Sam knew most of that was merely Dean trying to bait him because even though his brother was all those things and Sam had no doubt he’d probably never be better at anything cause in his mind Dean was perfect, he frowned as his eye hurt. “Can you?”

“Can I what?” Dean asked, watching as Sam pressed his hands against Dean’s own to push against them as if to test his strength and let his brother push him back a few steps before locking his own muscles down to push back. “Not much I can do to make you cuter. I think they gave Mom the wrong baby personally.”

“Shut up, jerk,” Sam shot back but felt a small smile start on the side of his face that wasn’t too bruised. “If I’m ugly then so are you.”

“Fine, I’ll concede you might grow out of your ugliness…bitch,” Dean smirked a little more, glad their Dad wasn’t around to hear this new little game of name calling that had started a few months back. “Since we are brothers after all…but we might have to get this hair cut so people stop thinking you’re a girl again.”

“They do not,” Sam pushed back to sighed when he couldn’t budge his brother. “Will I ever be stronger than you, Dean?”

Dean held his arms straight out to allow Sam to push against him until he saw the frustration build and then he relaxed them to let Sam fall forward, off balance by the sudden change. “Maybe,” he hedged, slipping an arm carefully around his brother as he caught him. “If you work hard enough at it.”

“Can you teach me to be stronger?” Sam asked, eyes bright with boyish innocence and a love only a little brother could show for his much adored big brother. “If I promise to work hard and make you proud of me, can you teach me?”

“That’s what big brothers are for, Sammy,” Dean grinned down while slipping Sam into a light choke hold that he’d already taught his brother to slip out of a year earlier, not disappointed when he did so with ease and reached for the dropped bag of ice. “Teaching little brothers all they know so one day you just might get taller, faster and stronger.”

“But not cuter,” Sam laughed, still in pain and not feeling good about school tomorrow but a little better than he had because Dean had made him laugh.

“Dude, I can’t work miracles,” Dean snorted, ducking the ice bag as Sam grabbed clean clothes to go change and while he did that Dean grabbed his phone. Their Dad was a week away from clearing the case he was on and also two states away so ignoring the order to stick it out on their own the older boy made a judgment call. “Pastor Jim? It’s Dean. Can…can you come get us? I’m not sending Sammy back into that hell and…yeah, thanks. See you in the morning.”

Placing the phone back in his bag, Dean looked to the bathroom to grin. He’d teach Sam what he could because that’s what big brothers were supposed to do. He’d also teach him so he could look after himself as they grew up. He didn’t think Sam would ever outgrow him but he’d give the kid what he could so maybe one day he could hold his own with Dean in a fight.

** Present, Men of Letters Bunker: **

“ _Sonuvabitch_ ,” Dean gritted, stumbling back until he hit a wall; staring towards Sam, who sat with his long legs drawing up to his chest, his head bowed and his good hand trying to cradle where the sling had slipped to allow his injured shoulder to move.

“I…I…failed to become stronger than you,” Sam’s words were choked between pain and sudden tears that he didn’t realize had started to flow. “If I’d been stronger I…I might’ve been able to protect myself better or stopped your deal or got you outta Hell before the Angels did or wouldn’t have let Ruby use me or not lost my soul or…not nearly lost my mind afterward or…looked for you harder after Roman blew you and Cas to Purgatory no matter what had happened to me or…shut Hell so there wouldn’t have been any more demons and you never would’ve taken that damn Mark or needed the blade cause I would’ve been dead so there would’ve been no Gadreel possessing me or killing Kevin or…”

As Sam’s broken words all started to run together, Dean closed his eyes against the sudden burning he could feel in his chest and behind his own eyes along with the pounding of his heart in his ears. Struggling to hear what Sam was trying to say, he was also hearing a rush of other voices, words in his head.

“‘ _Dean! Take your brother outside and don’t look back!’_

_“‘So long as I’m around nothing bad is gonna happen to you.’_

_“‘It’s okay, Sammy. I’m here! I’m gonna be here.’_

_“‘Nothing will ever be placed above you._ ’”

Multiple voices, multiple memories from childhood to the years since they started hunting again, bad times and good all tore through Dean’s head and heart; eyes burning as they blurred until he felt his fingers open to let the knife drop to the floor and followed it to his knees.

A sudden noise seemed to slam through the bunker and shook Dean’s body and made his ears ring, nearly bleed but as his vision cleared all that had changed was a small bronze amulet on the floor between them along with a crisp white note folded next to it.

It took Dean several attempts before his body would move, eyes locked on Sam but his little brother looked to have passed out finally so Dean moved slowly to grab both items; hissing as the amulet…his amulet burned his palm for a long moment before it slowly stopped burning to just stay warm in his hand as he stared at the handwritten note with narrowed eyes.

“‘ _Dean. Sam’s had this since you threw it away. He’s been scared to offer it back but I felt and I think by now that you’d probably agree that it’s time you took this back and wore it again. It might be hot until it and you adjust to the changes it’ll make in you. Castiel told you that the amulet had the power to find God…and maybe when…maybe when it’s time it still can but right now it also has the power to do what it’s always done for you and that’s remind you of what you are._

_“‘You’ve always been more than a hunter, more than John Winchester’s son who followed in his footsteps. You’ve always been more than Heaven’s savior or Michael’s vessel. You’re more than whatever you think you’ve become now. You’ve always been so much more but sometime between the angels messing things up and everything else it seems that you’ve forgotten what the most important thing is that you have been for the last 31 years and that’s Sam’s big brother._

_“‘That amulet helped you to remember and know it once and I hope it helps you to remember that now. He needs you and you, despite what you think or what Crowley or Castiel might tell you, you need him. So…give it a chance, give him a chance to prove that he hasn’t failed you as badly as Sam thinks he has because he will not give up on you. Take care and maybe we’ll see one another again. C._ ’”

Dean stared at the note as he read it again to be sure he wasn’t imagining it then he looked at the amulet in his hand to run his fingers over the familiar face of the object that Sam had given him the Christmas his brother had learned the truth of their lives. It had been a symbol of their bond. It had been the one thing that Dean never took off except when his deal had come due and until too much crap got between them and he was driven to a raw edge; losing faith in himself and his brother.

He’d often wondered if Sam had retrieved the amulet from the trashcan that day but had never asked because there had never been a good time. Now as Dean let the black cord drop back over his head to feel the burn through his shirt he was surprised when he felt it slowly stop…around the same time he felt something else uncoil in him and shot a look across the hall.

“Sam,” Dean scrambled to his feet to take three steps, kneeling next to where Sam had fallen over to see his brother’s face was pale, tight with pain while his lashes were showing the still wet tears. “Sammy. Hey, wake up for me, kiddo. Sammy…please.”

Lightly palming his hand over Sam’s cheek to feel tears and a low fever that made the former hunter wonder just how bad hurt his brother actually was or how long it had been since he’d actually slept or ate, Dean got an arm under Sam’s shoulders to carefully sit him back up and as Sam’s head lolled to the side to rest on his shoulder Dean used the new powers to feel out the exact injury in Sam’s shoulder and scowled.

Healing was new but Crowley had mumbled something one night that he could if he ever felt a need for it and right then while feeling torn muscles and tendons as well as a bone that was still not quite put back correctly Dean felt the need; focusing his power to heal slowly, carefully but fully.

“You didn’t fail me this time either, Sam,” he began; unaware of how his voice dropped into the slightly lower tone it did when soothing his sick or upset brother. “You did learn to be stronger than I was or that I am. If you hadn’t I don’t think you would’ve survived all the crap that’s hit you in the last 10 years. You not only survived but you’ve beat crap that would’ve and did drive me into a damn bottle.

“This, what I am, isn’t your fault. You tried to help me and I know that if there is any way possible to bring me back to the man I was that you’ll do it,” Dean felt Sam shudder as torn muscles healed and caused him pain, heard his soft words asking him to come back, to let him help him.

He watched as his brother’s left hand slowly moved up like Sam used to and grasped onto the amulet. “I’ll ask you why you never mentioned in five years that you had this later but right now let’s get you up off the floor and…no, I’m not gonna cut you, little brother,” Dean heard the soft words and had to wonder what had changed inside him that it hurt to hear Sam ask in his sleep if he was going to cut him.

Dean could feel the darkness still inside him so he knew it was still there but he could also feel a slight switch that lightened it. He wasn’t sure if it was the memories or the amulet that had done that. Right then he didn’t give a damn. All he cared about was getting Sam into a bedroom because he still hated the fact that his little brother was four inches taller than him.

Choosing his room over his brother’s, Dean got Sam laid down to roll his eyes in a fond way when his brother’s instant response was to try to roll to his stomach like he always did when sick, hurt, or drunk but was quick to keep him on the left side until he was certain his right arm wouldn’t hurt him if it moved in his sleep.

“Sleep, Sammy,” Dean carded his fingers back through Sam’s dark hair while noticing that a good chunk of his duffel and closet had been gone through as if Sam had been searching for something and knew when he caught sight of his oldest black t-shirt and faded flannel that his brother had been trying to find something that reminded him of when things hadn’t been so bad between them. “No pain, no fears, no worries. Just for once try to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up but first there’s one more thing I have to do.”

Leaving Sam to sleep, Dean headed for basement room because he wanted enough distance between any use of this power and his brother as he could get. He made the proper sigils before reaching for his phone.

It took less than ten minutes for the calls to be completed and for him to then feel two very different types of power fill the room as two voices tried to speak at the same time.

“What are you doing here?”

“Dean called…”

“Bloody pain in my ass called to…what d’ya mean he called you. He called me.”

“Well for whatever reason, be glad I don’t have my full grace yet or I’d smite you for causing this mess.”

“I caused it? How do you figure that I caused this mess, featherhead? It was your bloody Angel pal who stabbed Dean.”

“You tricked him into accepting the Mark and then the First Blade so this is most certainly your fault, demon.”

“Actually, it’s both your faults that I’m like this,” Dean spoke from where he’d been leaning in the dungeon door to listen as an angel and a demon bickered like school kids on a playground.

“Dean! I…” Castiel began at the same time as Crowley shot him his most innocent look.

“Now Squirrel, I thought we…”

Dean lifted a finger and smiled when both were cut off. “Looks like I didn’t have to have Cain teach me that trick after all,” he left his eyes flash black briefly to allow both to understand that despite any change in aura that he hadn’t changed all that much. “I called you both here because I wanted to get one thing perfectly clear and don’t feel like messing around with talking to you separately.

“Yes, I came back here and no, I didn’t kill my brother, Castiel. We did have a fight and he is hurt but he’s hurt a lot worse by the damn demons who jumped him. He’s also got a nice set of wounds on his back from where an Angel went after him so here’s where you two pay real close attention to what I say,” the former hunter stepped into the room to pull the First Blade out from behind his back, noticing that with it in his hand that he gained the focus he desired. “Sam is off limits. I don’t give a goddamn if it’s from Heaven or Hell. I will gut whoever or whatever comes close to my brother.

“Cas, I’m not going to go into a long winded speech on your part in this little screw-up that is my life because you damn well better know the things you’ve done wrong and the things that I will never forgive you for. Metatron stabbing me isn’t even in the Top 5 of that list. You keep saying that you don’t want to be a leader and yet you keep getting pulled back into crap that might do well for Heaven but screws me and Sam over every time. It stops now.

“Crowley, you know exactly how much I blame you for how I am and also for the fact that I just knitted my brother’s damn shoulder back together so listen up. You made me this way because you thought you’d have your very own Knight of Hell to come at your beck and call. You wanted someone to be best buddies with and then you decided you didn’t like my style of partying or that I wouldn’t kill when you said sic ‘em. Listen up.”

Dean stepped closer while allowing the amulet to lay over his t-shirt so both angel and demon would see it and start to understand. “I am nobody’s slave. I refused Heaven’s demands and I will refuse Hell. If anyone from either of your camps comes after me, I’ll make them sorry and ship them back in a baggie. If anyone from Heaven or Hell comes after my little brother I will come after you two and I will gank your asses as fast as I should’ve the first goddamn time I laid eyes on either one of you,” he growled, voice hard as steel. “I am Sam’s brother always. I will not choose over him and I will kill to protect him. Right now as I am I really don’t care who I kill so until Sammy gets me over this…I’d stay the hell out of my sight and pass the word on. Now, get the hell out of our home.”

With that Dean turned and walked out, not caring what happened in the room as he went back up to check on Sam.

“We’ve created a bloody monster,” Crowley muttered with a sigh. “Moose better have a plan to fix this or else we both might be dealing with a hostile takeover.”

Castiel stared at the doorway but made no move to follow the man he knew right then had spoken more from Dean Winchester’s heart than any outside influence of the mark or the Blade. He vanished with a flutter of wings and the hope that before his grace diminished fully that he could help Sam fix what he accepted was partially his fault in so many ways.

The absence of serious pain was the first thing Sam noticed when he began to wake up. Ever since his shoulder had been injured he hadn’t woken up once without nauseating pain but yet this time there seemed to only be a dull ache.

“Hey,” a low voice spoke from beside the bed and had his eyes trying to snap open while his hand shot out only to be grabbed and held. “Your reflexes suck, Sammy.”

“De’n,” Sam’s throat closed off from being too dry. He went to cough when he felt a hand under his hand to lift it as a cup touched his lips.

“Drink,” Dean ordered, watching that his brother didn’t drink too quickly before moving the cup away and then just waited for Sam’s eyes to focus on him. “Should I ask how long it’s been since you slept?”

“Ummm, what day did you die?” Sam tossed back without thinking, head pounding but then he noticed that his arm was loose and he could move it without agony. “Huh?”

Dean snorted at the retort while moving to sit on the edge of his bed from the chair that he had been sitting in. “I guess if you’ve been awake for six months or just grabbing naps here and there it explains why you’ve been out like a light for three days,” he decided to leave off how worried he’d been getting over that. “You crashed, little brother.”

“Three…” Sam frowned, trying to place the last things he remembered and thought about the fight, the confrontation in the hall and him listing his failures. “I…you stayed?”

“Yeah, nothing better to do than hang around and play nurse for you,” Dean returned with a shrug, waiting until he was sure he had Sam’s attention to let him see the amulet around his neck. “Did you hear anything I said to you after all hell broke loose in the hall?” he asked.

Sam was still in shock that Dean not only stayed but somehow he had the amulet back…the amulet that Sam knew had still been in his duffel bag. “I…thought I heard you…say I hadn’t failed you in learning to be stronger but…” he blinked at the hand that brushed his hair out of his eyes to catch a sight of silver on Dean’s finger and had to swallow hard. “Dean?”

“I’m not saying it’ll be easy because a piece of me likes the freedom of not giving a damn or worrying about anything but…I’ll give you…a year to come up with a fix for how I am,” Dean shrugged, not moving as Sam’s fingers touched the amulet as if to test that he wasn’t dreaming.

“A year?” Sam planned to find one before that if at all possible. “What’s the catch?” he still wasn’t fully certain this wasn’t a trick or a game.

“No catch, no tricks,” Dean accepted Sam’s concern. He knew he’d given his brother no reason to trust him given that he’d just swung an axe at him. “I’m not sure what’s changed or why it did but…while I don’t care about most of the things I did and I make no excuses for that or the stuff that I’ve done these past months I do still happen to care about my pain in the ass little brother so here’s how this can play.

“You’re going to try to fix me no matter what I say. Do I want to be put back to the man who was fueled by grief and guilt? Not particularly. Do I want to be the brother to you that you once looked up to? Unfortunately, yeah, I do,” he blew out a forced sigh at that. “Do I want to get yanked back to cleaning up everyone else’s messes? No and we will have to come to a middle ground on that cause all we’re doing is being used by both sides and it’s time Heaven and Hell sucked it up and found someone else to run to cause we, you and me, are going to go back to what we do best.”

Sam was slowly able to sit up, seeing that he was in Dean’s room; another surprise to him. He gingerly moved his right arm to test its motion and was startled to feel only minor pain; nothing like he had before. “What we do best is fight it seems,” he pointed out before thinking, blinking when the back of his head was lightly slapped but caught a dry smirk on his brother’s face.

“Cute, but not what I meant,” Dean smirked, catching Sam’s hand to push lightly against his palm; seeing the moment when Sam began to catch on. “I meant the family business, Sammy. Hunting things, saving people. The stuff we grew up doing before all this other crap got tossed our way and things like Wendigos and ghosts or hell, even sparkly vampires became afterthoughts. I want us to hunt like brothers.”

“You…want to hunt and you’ll let me find a way to reverse this?” Sam asked, pushing back against Dean’s hand and knowing he wasn’t using his new strength since he was able to move his arm back when he shouldn’t have been able to budge Dean as he was right then.

“Yeah to both and I’ll try to control the darker urges that might come up when we hunt. Try, no promises on things not going too bloody,” Dean was quick to toss in, pushing back a little harder until he felt Sam pushing more so that when he eased up his brother came forward. “I won’t promise to be easy to live with or get along with but I will promise to not hurt you and maybe this time you can teach me to be stronger.”

Sam wasn’t expecting the weight he was pushing against to disappear so he cursed and tried to catch himself only go still when an arm was slipped around his shoulders and he remembered the day that he was nine years old. “Stronger than what?” he questioned curiously, hesitantly allowing his one arm to reach out and around his brother; testing.

“Stronger than the urges and darkness inside me right now,” Dean took a slow breath, feeling the warmth of the amulet through his shirt as well as the slight shaking of the brother that he’d come so close to losing too often. “I was wrong back when you were a kid, Sam. You did actually grow taller than me and you did, no thanks to me or Dad, grow up stronger than both of us. So maybe it’s time little brother teaches me to be stronger than what’s inside me now so I can be the man I once was.”

The lump in Sam’s throat kept him from answering for several moments. He also debated on the old ‘no chick flick moments’ rule his brother had created years ago. “Still think I didn’t get better looking?” he finally replied, trying to keep his tone light and hoped his voice didn’t shake too much.

It got harder to bury the emotions that wanted to break free when he was suddenly pulled fully against Dean’s chest to feel strong arms hold on in a way that was rare between them these days. Sam slowly allowed himself to hug back and hold on when Dean didn’t immediately break the hold.

“Dude, didn’t I tell you not to expect miracles?” Dean snorted in return, holding the hug just a moment longer than normal before easing Sam back to arm’s length to offer a more normal cocky smile. “I’ll admit you got good looking sometime between chubby little kid and annoying gawky teenager but don’t let it go to your head. I’m still the better looking Winchester brother.”

“Hookers don’t count, Dean,” Sam grinned, letting Dean push him back to the pillow.

“We’ll go out to a bar one night and see which one of us gets picked up first, Sammy,” Dean countered, noticing the heavy eyes and dark circles under his brother’s eyes. “Go back to sleep. You can start hunting up cures tomorrow…after you tell me what you did in the kitchen that the door’s blocked and…go buy a new phone since I sort of destroyed yours with the axe.”

Sam was about to toss out another mild comeback when his eyes shot up to see his brother standing by the door, waiting. “You…killed my phone?” he frowned a second before it dawned on him why. “Oh. Dean…”

“I never left that message, Sam. You can dig into the box of my old phones to find the one I used back then and listen to the message I sent you because what you got, what you heard that probably gave you the final push to doing what they wanted, sure as Hell was nothing like what I actually said that night,” Dean told him seriously.

Dean had torn Sam’s phone apart until he located the long ago saved and kept message. He knew that if Sam was still keeping a message that hurt him so badly that he was still living that hurt. Listening to his voice speak a hurtful, hateful message to his brother made Dean’s darker side long to hurt both angels and demons because he knew without a doubt that someone played with his message to ensure Sam completed his task of freeing Lucifer.

It was five years old but still Dean could see the hurt in Sam’s eyes when he first mentioned the message. Now he knew why. Now he knew why the damn kid had been so jumpy and skittish around him after they escaped the convent and for months afterward.

“You’re my brother. I might not always like the things you do just like you don’t and won’t like all the things I do but we’re still blood…you will be my little brother forever and like I promised in that church I will never put anything above you. Even while I’m like this,” Dean’s hand lifted the amulet, feeling Sam’s eyes on him as he met the gaze. “You gave this to me and I promised never to take it off. I broke that promise by letting too much crap come between us. I’m not sure how I got it back but I will make you this promise again. I will not take this off and so long as I wear it I’m your brother. Now…are we good?”

Sam doubted if it would or could be this simple but for the moment things felt…good and he’d take the rest as it came, good or bad. He would find a way to fix this. He would get his brother back and he would not fail either of them again.

“Yeah, Dean, we’re good,” he nodded, taking the hint that he was supposed to still sleep when the wall switch dimmed the lights but he was still curious about something. “What…made you change your mind? About me, about staying…anything?”

“You did,” Dean finally replied as he stepped from the bedroom, glancing back to offer a slow smile. “You made me start to remember who I am and what I am besides this demon right now.”

Sam was left unsure what to say to that so he stayed quiet and began to plot ways to find a cure for his brother while also hoping he could and nothing else went wrong. “Let me be strong enough one more time,” he whispered to the silent room, drifting back to sleep with a distant hope that his brother didn’t find the mess in kitchen and hoping if he did that the demon side right then wouldn’t care about the smoke damage the one brief fire had caused.

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. More to come soon.


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